The House That Watched

Evelyn's car shook and sputtered, finally stopping on the side of the road. The engine let out a sad little cough, and she dropped her head on the steering wheel with a groan. Outside, all she saw was fog. It was thick and gray, making the road ahead vanish.

She didn’t even remember how she got to Sable Hill. Her GPS had taken her off the main highway hours ago. At first, she thought it was just a bad signal, but now, with no service and no clue how to go back, she started to wonder if something else was at play.

A cold wind whistled through the trees. Evelyn glanced around, uneasy. The fog seemed to wrap around the car, almost like it was alive, pushing against the windows. It felt strange and heavy.

“Just need to find help,” she said to herself, grabbing her coat and stepping out into the crisp air.

Outside, it was oddly quiet. Her footsteps echoed loudly on the cracked pavement. The fog wrapped around her like a damp blanket. In the distance, she spotted a house. It was big and two stories high, with dark windows that seemed to suck up all the light.

It didn’t look welcoming at all, but it was the only thing around. Evelyn hesitated, sensing something was off. Still, she forced herself to go toward it. The door creaked as she pushed it open. Inside, the air felt musty, like old wood and mildew. She blinked against the dim light, taking in her surroundings.

The house looked empty. Furniture was covered with white sheets, and a thin layer of dust covered the hardwood floors. A grand staircase stood ahead, its railing bent and worn down by time.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing eerily through the empty space. She waited for a reply but heard nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped further into the foyer, the chill in the air creeping into her bones. She didn’t want to linger here, but going back into the fog felt like a bad idea. Somewhere in this house, she hoped to find a phone, or even a flashlight. Anything to help her escape this fog. As she moved through the house, she stumbled upon a few unsettling details.

In the living room, a grandfather clock was ticking loudly. The hands stuck at 3:17 seemed odd. The sound matched her heartbeat—a reminder that time was still moving, yet everything else felt frozen. Then she stepped into the dining room. The table was set for a meal, with plates and silverware. Dust covered everything, though. It hadn’t been touched in years. And the mirrors—it seemed like they were everywhere. Each mirror had a strange, warped look, with odd patterns carved into their frames. Every time she glanced at one, she thought she saw something shift in her peripheral vision. But when she turned, nothing was there. Just her, looking more terrified with each glance.

By the time Evelyn reached the study, fear had settled deep in her gut. She felt like someone was watching her. The air felt charged, like the house was alive in a way she didn’t understand. She stood frozen at the door. The chair behind the desk faced her, empty, but it looked like someone had just been sitting there. On the desk, an open book caught her eye. It was mostly blank, except for a single word scratched in the middle of a page: RUN.

Panic seized her. She turned quickly, her heart racing, but the hallway behind her was empty. Those mirrors shimmered, the reflections swirling as if they were alive. Then she caught a glimpse of it. In the nearest mirror, a man in black was standing behind her. His face was shrouded in darkness. She whipped around, breathless, but found nothing. When she looked back at the mirror, he was closer, and now he seemed to smile. Evelyn staggered back and grabbed the desk for support, her hands shaking. She felt hope slip away when she realized he had vanished, but a chill stuck with her. She was still not alone.

“This has to be your imagination,” she muttered softly. The silence in the house felt heavy as she turned back into the hallway. The mirrors seemed to loom larger now, twisting her image as she walked past.

Outside, the fog pressed against the windows, darkening the dim light. She checked her phone, but still no service. The battery was at 13%. Evelyn stood at the base of the grand staircase. A sense nagged at her to go. Whatever was happening here, she didn’t want any part of it. But when she turned to leave, the entrance was gone. In its place was a dark corridor that seemed to stretch on forever.

“No.” Her voice trembled. She looked back, but the staircase morphed in front of her eyes, twisting into an impossible shape.

The house felt like it was shifting, and panic bubbled up from her stomach. A loud door slam echoed from somewhere up above.

“Is someone there?” her voice shook as she called out.

Silence answered her. She climbed up the stairs, gripping the railing tightly. The wood creaked beneath her feet as if protesting her every step. At the top, she found a long hallway with identical gray doors. One was ajar, a whispering sound drifting out. It was so soft she almost couldn’t hear it.

“Hello? Is someone in there?” she asked, the words wavering as she pushed the door open a bit more.

Inside was a child's bedroom. Pale blue walls surrounded a small bed that was unmade. Toys littered the floor, and her heart raced at the sight. On the nightstand, a cracked photo frame caught her eye. She picked it up, and dread washed over her. It was a picture of her as a child, around six or seven. She was in front of a house she didn’t recognize, holding the very stuffed rabbit lying on the floor next to her.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she whispered, tight against her racing heart.

Before she could process it, the whispers grew louder, almost drowning her thoughts. Breaking the glass of the photo, she dropped the frame. Suddenly, the toys sprang to life. The train rolled across the floor, blocks stacked up by themselves, and the rabbit moved.

Evelyn’s vision blurred as panic gripped her. “No! This isn’t real!” She bolted through the door, slamming it behind her.

Each step down the hall stretched longer than the last. New doors appeared, painted black and humming as she passed. When Evelyn finally paused to catch her breath, everything around her warped. The hallway stretched into a maze of walls, confusing her every move. A mirror hung far down the corridor. She didn’t want to look, but her eyes were pulled to it. The reflection wasn’t her. It was smiling, its mouth stretched wide, teeth sharp, and holding something familiar—a stuffed rabbit. Evelyn felt fear coil in her stomach. She backpedaled, startled, thinking she saw the man in black again, but he was gone when she turned to look. She turned to run, but as she did, the ground beneath her feet crumbled. 

The next moment, she was back in the living room. Everything felt normal again. The furniture was in place, and warm light glowed from a fire in the hearth.

“Was it all just a dream?” she questioned, rubbing her head.

“Remember, you’ve been here before,” a voice echoed in the silence.

She looked up to see the man in black in the corner, still hidden in shadow.

“This is your story,” he said, his voice deep and chilling, “But it’s not the first time.”

Evelyn opened her mouth, but no sound came out. He stepped closer, and the whole room seemed to lose its shape, dissolving into fog.

“What do you mean?” she managed to utter. Her voice felt weak.

“You’ve been here before. You just don’t remember any of it.”

She shook her head, denying it. “No way. I’ve never set foot in this place.”

He laughed, a hollow, unsettling noise. “You said that last time too.”

Suddenly, the room twisted around her like a bad dream. The furniture turned to shadows, and the warmth of the fire became cold. Frightened, she darted her eyes toward the mirrors. In each one, different versions of her stared back: one blankly watching, another clawing at the walls in desperation, and another lying still, empty-eyed.

Evelyn closed her eyes, fear tightening her chest. “What do you want?” she asked.

“Not about what I want,” he replied, “It’s about what you’ve done.”

Everything went dark. Evelyn woke up, gasping for breath on the cold ground. The house was gone. Her car was parked just a few feet away. The fog still hung thick, but everything felt different. A buzz from her phone made her jump. She looked at the screen. One message was there: You can’t leave.

Her stomach dropped as unease washed over her, and she glanced around nervously. Then she noticed them—figures in the mist. They stood still, their faces hidden within the fog. She felt like they were watching and waiting. Panicking, she rushed to her car, fumbling with the locks. Climbing inside, she slammed the door shut, hands trembling as she turned the key. The engine roared to life, momentarily easing her mind. But when she looked in the rearview mirror, her breath caught in her throat. Her reflection was smiling again, stretching its lips into an unsettling grin that made her heart race. Her grip on the wheel tightened as she stared at the blur of fog outside. She had to drive. Fast. With a quick check, she pulled back onto the road, her headlights slicing through the thick fog. The engine hummed softly, yet the pressure in the air felt suffocating. No sign of life around her, only an endless winding road blanketed in gray.

As minutes turned into hours, the clock read 3:17, the same time from before. The fog began to twist again. Creepy shapes of trees emerged, their branches curling like claws. Shadows flickered at the corners of her eyes, vanishing as soon as she turned to look.

Then, she saw it. The house stood abruptly in the middle of the road, dark and brooding.

“No,” she whispered. “I left you.”

It loomed tall, commanding attention. The door was slightly open, whispers creeping out with a chilly breeze. Evelyn froze, mind racing. She didn't want to return. The road beneath her car disappeared into the house and fog. The engine started to sputter, then died.

“No!” she whimpered, twisting the keys, but the car was silent.

Without warning, the driver’s side door opened on its own. Panic surged. Figures loomed as she took shaky steps towards the house, tugged forward by the whispers.

“Stop!” she yelled, but her body moved against her will.

At the front steps, the house door creaked wider. Inside, it was colder, and everything felt off. Mirrors lined the hall, each reflection waiting for her. One of her reflections smiled back, tilting its head in a way that felt wrong. Then, it moved.

Evelyn shrieked. “This isn’t real!” she yelled.

The reflection lunged with a terrifying speed.

The house swallowed her screams. When she opened her eyes, she was on the foyer floor again. The mirrors were gone, and silence filled the air. She pulled herself up and steadied her breathing. Outside, she heard something—an engine running. She opened the door and stepped outside, blinking into the bright sunlight. Her car sat there, gently idling. But the fog had lifted, revealing a tranquil day. Dread washed over her when she noticed the clock on her dashboard: 3:17. As she drove away, she dared to glance in the rearview mirror one last time.

The house was gone.

Yet her reflection still smiled at her.